Discovering True Intimacy with Our Savior

Beyond Devastation

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As I sit here staring at the flashing cursor on my computer screen, words escape me.  Yesterday, tornados tore a trail of devastation across the South and particularly in my beloved home state, Alabama.  

I am grateful that, to my knowledge, none of my friends or family experienced significant damage, but my heart is saddened as I think of the questions that people who were affected by the storms might ask. 

Where is God in all of this?
How can a good and loving God bring such destruction? 
What did I do to deserve this?
What do we do now? 

The Bible tells us that…
God is good and loving;
His ways are right and just;
His works are perfect and faithful.  

So, how do we reconcile what we see around us with the words of God? 

We have to realize that this world is upside down.  God’s dictionary and our dictionaries are not the same.  Our definition of “good” is nowhere near the definition of God’s.  I’m not talking about a difference in semantics; I’m talking about a dramatic difference in the perspective we have and the perspective of God. 

Our ways are imperfect
Our goals misdirected
Our sight limited

But the questions still beckon, so I took them to God this morning as I was praying for those who experienced the destruction of the storms and for those who will go out to help clean up.  As I was praying what seemed to be a small and insignificant prayer for those who are hurting, God reminded me of something sweet and wonderful:  He makes all things new.

That sounds great, doesn’t it?  But what we fail to realize is that for something to be new, we have to replace the old.  Destruction has to happen, whether physically or spiritually, before He can restore it. 

My prayer today is that even though our earthly eyes see devastation and destruction, that we will close our spiritual eyes and see beyond those images to the hope of restoration that is bigger than any storm.

Relentless

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I hate Satan.  I realize that probably goes without saying, but I just wanted to get that out in the open so there are no misunderstandings between us.

Satan has been knocking on my door for the past several days.  Incessantly.  What does he want?  He wants to steal and kill and destroy (John 10:10).  But today – yes, today – I caught on to his plan while I was reading 1 Samuel 23.

David, who has been anointed as king but has not yet taken his position on the throne, is being pursued relentlessly by King Saul.  What does Saul want to do to David?  He wants to kill him.  He wants to destroy him.  He wants to steal his God-given right to reign over Israel.

Based on some poor choices by Saul, God rejects him as king, and seeks out someone who has a heart like His (1 Samuel 13:14).  A heart that seeks His will.  A shepherd’s heart.  A heart like David’s.

I’m sure you know the story:  Through a series of events, David and Saul meet and become friends.  That is, until Saul realizes David is to be the next king.  Then, Saul goes off the deep end.  His crown is at stake, and he will do whatever it takes to keep it.  He will stop at nothing.

Saul plots.  Saul schemes.  And David is on the run forced to live in the desert; in caves; in cities; wherever he can find refuge no matter how brief.

Like Saul, Satan is relentlessly trying to keep us from becoming what God intends for us to be.  He wants to steal our joy and blessing.  He wants to kill our hearts and our hope.  He wants to destroy our relationship with The Almighty.

But He can’t.

No matter what Saul did, David always escaped because he was chosen by God.  God was on his side, and He had a purpose for David’s life just as He has one for yours.

Satan does not have the power to destroy us.  So, let Paul’s words remind you: “Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (2 Corinthians 1:21-22).

Rest easy, Friend.  You are His and His purposes will stand (Isaiah 46:10) you need only to stand firm and see the deliverance of the LORD (2 Chronicles 20:17).

 

Loathing Christmas

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Well, it’s that time of the year.  The time when little elves start decorating the streets with twinkly stars and red and green tinseled wreaths.  When children, and grown-ups alike, start making their christmas lists. When getting one mile down the road takes 30 minutes, and when a casual run to the grocery store turns into a wrestling match with a silver-haired lady for the last box of confectioners sugar.  When parents line their toddlers up for pictures with Santa where their faces are so contorted from their screams that they are barely recognizable.  Ah, yes.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year.  Or is it?

Let me preface the rest of this post by saying that if you are the kind of person whose eyes glaze over at the sound of Jingle Bells or if visions of sugar-plums dance in your head you probably need to hit that little “X” in the corner of your screen and pretend this post doesn’t exist.  But if you are as jaded about Christmas as a jigsaw, then press on.

For those that are still with me: let’s get real about Christmas.  I hate this time of the year.  You might say, “Nikol, ‘hate’ is such a strong word.”  Yes, it is.  So, let me repeat.  I hate this time of the year.

As a Christian, I had a hard time admitting this about myself.  Few things have liberated me more than when I said those nine little words, “Hi.  My name is Nikol, and I hate Christmas.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love that Jesus was born.  I love that one very thing about Christmas.  But that one thing gets lost in the proverbial hustle and bustle of the season.

My dread of all things Christmas happened 13 years ago this week.  My father passed away two days before Thanksgiving and the holidays were never the same.  Traditions that I once looked forward to were replaced with a sadness of one more year without my dad.

As time ticked on, so did the loathing.  My birthday falls right in the middle of Christmas and New Years.  Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a wife and mother.  So, in October (yes, October – don’t get me started), when I see the Christmas decorations being unpacked on the shelves at stores, I almost have a physical reaction as I brace for the inevitable holiday season and another reminder that I’m still single and another year older.

With all that being said, it’s not a surprise that I get depressed this time of the year.  Lots of people do.  While the world wants us to believe that this is a magical time of the year, the truth is, for many people, it’s a nightmare.   Remember those masks that I was telling you about in Fear and Freedom?  Well, if there is ever a time when folks put on those masks it’s during the Christmas season.

Last year, God showed me that there is hope for the Scrooges like me out there – those people that have been battered and bruised by life and by dreams left unfulfilled.  So, in a bold act of faith, I’m taking God up on His challenge to write a series of blogs on re-thinking Christmas.  To be honest, I have no idea what He is up to.  I have no idea how many blogs will be in the series and I have no idea what they will be about, but I’m willing to make-like-a-wise-man and hop on a camel and see where He’s leading.

So, even though that familiar dread has descended upon me as the holidays approach, I am hopeful and thankful.  I am hopeful that this Christmas will be better than the last and I’m thankful that the God who fulfilled His promise to Abraham over 2,000 years ago is the same God that keeps His promises today.

So, throw some chestnuts on the fire, grab a cup of hot chocolate and let’s see where He takes us.  In the meantime, tell me what you loath about Christmas.

Lessons in Navigation

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Let me begin by saying that I’m not big on road trips. Four hours is typically my limit. Anything over that and I get antsy and irritable. Last week, I had the somber task of attending a memorial service for a friend’s husband at Dudley Park in Athens, GA. I’ve been to Athens once before but I rode with someone very acquainted with the way.

As I was preparing for the trip, I didn’t ask anyone for directions. I trusted my navigation system (aka Prissy) to get me where I needed to go. Now, you should know that Prissy and I don’t get along much. She’s quite the task master. I want to throw her through the windshield when she repeats “calculating route” at the slightest deviation from her planned course. Let’s just say she has a hard time adapting to any inconvenience, such as when you need to go to the restroom or grab some sustenance while en route! Not only is Prissy a task master, but apparently her definition of “fastest route” is different than mine (and the rest of the world’s, for that matter). Despite her failings, she’s always gotten me where I needed to go, even if she takes me around the world to get there. Considering the route she led me on to Athens that would be an understatement.

Trusting that Prissy would get me to Athens, I confidently typed “Dudley Park” as my destination and embarked on the most frustrating journey that I can remember.

Things went well until I hit Atlanta. Of course, doesn’t everything go well until you are in Atlanta? Ah, Atlanta, you challenge me, but I will have to write about you another day.

I was rocking along singing with the music on my iPhone when I hit a dead stop at the I75/I85 junction. “So much for fastest route,” I said to myself (okay, maybe I said it aloud). Sitting at a standstill, I glanced impatiently at Prissy’s projected arrival time. Realizing at this point that I might not make it in time for the service, I internally started to panic. My mind began to debate whether Prissy did, in fact, know what she was doing.

In my panic, I phoned my friend who grew up in Athens. My trusted pal handed me the bad news: I wasn’t going to make it in time, and I wasn’t going in the right direction! My heart sank. Stupid, Prissy! I decided she was going to be sold at auction immediately upon my return.

Thankfully, my friend and I sorted out where I needed to go. She e-mailed me directions (praise God for the iPhone) and traffic started to move along. I was back in business. Relieved that I had solid directions and my car was actually moving in a forward direction, my heart began to lighten a bit. I started singing again even though I was going to be late for the service.

I’d love to tell you that it was smooth sailing from that point forward, but alas, that wasn’t what God had in mind.

The directions instructed me to take a road and follow signs to the University of Georgia. Along the road I was on, there were no signs for the University of Georgia or Athens. However, I was in a hurry (though I’m not sure why at this point, since I was already going to be at the very least 20 minutes late for the service), so I didn’t notice. It wasn’t until I began to pass landfills that I realized I probably needed to touch base with my friend once again to make sure I wasn’t lost. Guess what?! I was.

As I was talking to my guide, we began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. But deep down inside, I wanted to cry. I became overwhelmed because I wasn’t going to be there for my friend who had been there for me when my daddy died and that I had shared every major life moment with for the last twenty-something years. I felt stupid for not asking for directions before I left. I felt like an idiot for not being able to follow the ones that I did have. I was afraid that when I did finally get to the service, my friend would be gone, thinking that I hadn’t been there for her. I was afraid if they were still there, they would look at me like I was crazy for being so late. I was overcome with the desire to go directly to where I was spending the night, hide there, lick my wounds and regroup. Not knowing if I should laugh or cry, I opted for the former since the latter would mess up my makeup and I had resolved to go, even if no one was there.

I am happy to say that I did finally make it to the park – an hour late! But I did do what I set out to do, which was to see my friend, hug her tight, tell her I love her, and cry with her. That was my mission, and praise God, it is what I accomplished.

So what are the lessons God taught me on this journey?

Lesson 1: God sends us out on missions. Sometimes they are exciting and fun, and other times they are somber tasks. When God gives you a mission, you have to resolve to see it through regardless of your feelings, set-backs, or mistakes along the way.

Lesson 2: Be careful who you trust when you need to get to where God is leading you. Friends, family and trusted advisors may be well-intentioned, but only God knows the way.

Lesson 3: At the very beginning of the journey always ask directions from someone who knows the way. God knows the right path to take – every time. He sees the big picture and can help us avoid things that will slow us down and frustrate us.

Lesson 4: Pay attention. Check in with God before you take a road that looks like it’s the right one. So many times, we think that because something looks good that it’s the road God wants us to go down. We get in a hurry and go too far down a road that God never intended us to be on.

Lesson 5: If you make a choice and something doesn’t seem quite right, before you take another step, check in with the Almighty. God’s shown me this year that He throws me breadcrumbs to let me know that He and I are on the same page. If I begin to notice He hasn’t given me a breadcrumb in a while, I stop and regroup. Just like I phoned a friend, we have the ability to phone a Friend who knows exactly how to get us back on course, no matter how many mistakes we’ve made.

Lesson 6: Enjoy the ride. Sing not only when things are going well, but sing when they aren’t.

Lesson 7: God’s timing to get us where we are going isn’t always what we think it should be. He teaches us through each mistake, and He tests our resolve through frustrations and delays.

Lesson 8: Don’t panic. God knows what He’s doing, even if your navigation system does not.

Lesson 9: Don’t give up until you get there!

Grateful for His leading,
-N